Under the Weather
by poxelda
Summary: I received a request for sick-Mac fic, so here you go. Hurt/comfort galore. A very long one-shot


*****I was asked to do a fic where Mac gets the flu. As others have done this better than I could, I chose to do something a little different (never do anything "normal") Enjoy!**

"These are the dumbest terrorists ever." Jack groused for the hundredth time.

"So you keep saying." Mac hissed back running his flashlight over the used furniture. He glanced at a paper in his hands then studied the couch in front of him. "This is it." Mac said around a sneeze. Mac sneezed twice more. Jack frowned running his flashlight over Mac.

"You ok?" Mac rolled his eyes.

"Grab the other end," Mac growled avoiding the question. The fact was he hurt everywhere and had gotten more and more congested. He hadn't had any energy for the past week. Mac figured it was the cold or flu. Jack thought it was the Bubonic Plague, Mac thought with a sigh. Mac moaned as he lifted his side of the couch and sneezed again. In the dim light of the flashlights rolling on the cushions of the sofa, Mac could see the concern Jack shot him. "It's just a cold," Mac admitted. Jack's eyes widened. Mac shook his head and focused on following Jack who walked backward through the used furniture store.

"This is an ugly couch." Jack groused. "And heavy." Mac nodded saving his air for carrying his end. His chest burned. He wrinkled his nose. The orange velour floral couch smelled of mold. Mac wondered if he had allergies. He sneezed again almost dropping his end.

"We're gonna put you to bed when we get home," Jack said. Mac sighed. "And get some medicine, I'll get Bozer to…"

"Shhhh." Mac hissed.

"Now don't go shushing me, I'm trying to help you…"

"Jack, quiet someone's coming." They froze.

"Damn."

"We're almost there." Mac huffed. They hadn't been able to use the coms in the store. They may be dumb, but the terrorists had good tech. Unfortunately, that meant they knew how vulnerable and unreliable tech was so they used the couch in the leader's grandmother's basement to hold all of their information, money and network connections.

"Weaponized nerds can't have that much firepower, can they?" Jack asked as he balanced the couch on his hip and opened the door in the back of the store. The stutter of automatic guns answered his question. Jack swore and moved faster almost pulling Mac over. They crossed to the loading dock. A truck sat parked, the back door open.

"Riley?" Mac grunted.

"I'm here." The driver's side door opened.

"Get the engine warmed up!" Jack yelled as bullets thudded against the other side of the metal door. Jack dropped his end of the couch and pulled his Baretta. Mac shoved the couch into the truck.

"Go!" He yelled. The door flew open, and bullets pinged around them. Riley revved the truck and pulled out. Mac jumped landing on the edge of the truck. Jack reached out to grab his hand when Mac's leg was kicked out from under him.

"MAC!" Jack yelled as Mac fell backward out of the truck. His head bounced off the edge of the loading dock, and he slammed into the ground. Mac groaned seeing spots. His adrenaline quieted pain and kept him moving. He bounced up and jumped again. This time Jack got his hand around Mac's forearm and hauled him into the truck. Mac flopped back breathing hard, his heart and lungs pumping like a jackhammer. Jack kicked the tailgate up and ducked down crawling over to Mac.

"You guys ok?" Riley called over the com.

"We're okay," Mac said in an unconvincing wince. Riley responded with a disbelieving grunt, but she focused on getting away.

"Fine." Jack mumbled as he leaned over Mac, "give me your knife." Mac glared at the older man. Jack held out his hand and waved his fingers.

"No, I…"

"Give it to me, or I'll dig for it." Mac shook his head and fished his Swiss army knife out of his pocket. He slapped it in Jack's hand with a scowl. Jack smiled then cut Mac's pant leg. Mac's eyes widened, and he hissed in as Jack felt around it. "Looks like a graze," Jack said.

"I could have told you that," Mac said. Jack shot him a dark look.

"Then why didn't you?" Before he could answer, Riley hit a pothole. Mac cried out as his sore head bounced off the metal truck bed. Jack was at his side sitting him up mauling his head. Mac tried to swat his hands away gritting his teeth. Every touch sent throbbing pain across his skull. Jack blocked Mac's hands and winced.

"That's a hell of a bump, bud. Are you dizzy, nauseous, blurred vision?" Jack asked as he leaned back helping Mac sit up. Mac moaned and put his head in his hands.

"No, no and no. Just a headache." Mac chuckled, "or should I say more of a headache." Jack frowned.

"You had a headache?" Mac rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated breath.

"I'm fine. Probably just a bug." Jack opened his mouth to say something. Riley beat him to it.

"We'll stop by the pharmacy on the way home. I'll call Bozer to make up his miracle soup." Mac laid back his hand on his forehead. Jack smiled and nodded in approval.

"Great," Mac mumbled.

Mac felt like crap by the time he got home. Bozer greeted him at the door. He grabbed Mac's elbow.

"I got the soup on, the couch and bed are both set up for you, I didn't know in which one you wanted to rest. The shower is set up, and there's some Aspercreme in there. Do you need an ice pack?" Mac rubbed his eye and let out a deep breath.

"Thank you, Boze, but I'm…"

"Fine!" The other three chorused. Mac gave them all the full power of his glare. Mac muttered under his breath and stomped into the bathroom slamming the door.

"Wow, he isn't feeling well," Bozer said with wide eyes. Riley frowned at him.

"Why do you say that?"

"Normally, Mac grabs his shoes and go for a run, refusing to do anything we offer until he drops," Jack said. He crossed to the kitchen and set down the white sack on the table.

"He is stubborn," Riley said. Jack and Bozer looked at each other grinning.

"That he is," Jack added not even trying to hide the fondness in his voice.

"Think of it as practice for a mission," Bozer said reading the label on one of the medications.

"Doc Carl gave him a decongestant and muscle relaxant."

"Muscle relaxant?" Bozer asked.

"He's complaining of muscle aches," Jack said.

"He told the doctor that?" Riley asked. Jack grinned.

"Not exactly."

"You ratted him out." Bozer reached out a hand. Jack slapped it. "My man Jack." Riley pulled out a tympanic thermometer.

"You already have a thermometer." Riley's forehead wrinkled.

"We have a drawer full. Unfortunately, Mac had found a way to make them read an average temp every time." Riley laughed.

"He hates being sick." She said.

"He's pathological about it." Bozer laughed putting a six pack of 7up in the fridge. Jack walked over to the simmering soup, lifted the lid and sniffed.

"Oh, Bozer that smells good." Bozer shooed Jack away shaking a wooden spoon at him with menace.

"Back off, that's all for Mac." Bozer and Mac froze both cocking their heads at the same time. Riley frowned reminded of hungry kittens following meat dangled in front of them. Riley listened and didn't hear anything. After a second she smiled. The shower had stopped running. They heard the slightest scuff of the door opening then the loud thump of Mac slamming his bedroom door. He knew the others were listening as carefully as stalkers.

"Jack, you're up," Bozer said. Jack sighed with resignation as he gathered the meds together and put 7up in a glass over ice. He rounded up everything to dress Mac's leg wound.

"Good luck," Riley said. Jack shook his head and walked toward Mac's room. There was no answer after Jack knocked several times. Jack hadn't expected one. Without a word, he stepped into Mac's room. Mac had tried locking the door a few times, but after replacing the fifth door after Jack broke them down, the kid had surrendered.

Mac groaned. His head was sawed in half by an energetic lumberjack. Even the gentle water stream of the shower felt like a hundred hours of Chinese water torture. Every sound echoed through his skull like a gunshot. All of his muscles ached as if he'd been pounded by Bozer's meat tenderizer. The shower had helped his chest feel better, but hadn't relaxed him or eased his achiness.

Mac laid with an arm across his eyes.

"Go'way." Jack chortled.

"And so it begins." Mac didn't answer; he didn't have the energy. Mac knew it wouldn't matter anyway. Mac sighed in resignation and lowered his arm.

"Fine," Mac growled as he sat up grimacing in pain. He closed his eyes as everything seemed to slosh around him. He wiped sweat from his forehead. Mac felt suffocated and hot. He held out his hand. Jack's mouth hung open, and he gaped at Mac. Mac scowled. "Well? Do this or get the hell out." Jack stepped forward his worry ratcheting up a few levels. Jack handed Mac the pills and 7up. Mac closed his eyes and winced at the pain of swallowing.

"Your throat hurts too?" Jack asked. Mac glared at him but said nothing. Jack bent and took Mac's temp. Jack's eyes widened. "102.8, that's not good." Mac laid back and covered his eyes again huffing with fatigue. Jack frowned and sat on the edge of Mac's bed. Mac wore shorts and bent his knee. Jack studied the stitches. "Doc Cal does a great job on stitches; I bet you won't even have a scar."

"Marvelous," Mac muttered. Jack let out a breath. He'd said it to get Mac to talk to him. The less Mac said equated with the worse he felt. Jack worked quickly wrapping Mac's thigh with practiced ease.

"Are you ready for soup?" Jack asked already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Do you feel puky?" Mac lowered his arm.

"Puky?"

"Do you?" Mac sighed.

"No. Go'way." Jack nodded and turned to leave without a word. "Thanks," Mac said softly. Jack smiled and closed the door behind him.

Mac tossed and turned all night falling into a feverish doze only to wake up with the world just as foggy as his disjointed dreams. Jack, Bozer, and Riley took shifts checking on Mac every time they heard him mumble or cry out. They managed to get Mac to take his meds and a few sips of water or 7up. Two hours before dawn Jack came in and frowned. Mac was thrashing back and forth as if he were on fire.

"No...do...don't…" Mac bolted upright gasping for air looking around the room confused.

"Hey, kid," Jack said. Mac jumped and stared at him without recognition. Jack eased onto the bed beside Mac. Mac laid back and wiped his dripping skin and hair breathing heavy. "You with me, Mac." Mac looked at him and nodded. "I gotta retake your temp." Jack took the temp. His eyes widened. "103.6! Holy crap, we need to get you cooled down." Mac gazed at Jack confusion on his face. Jack realized Mac wasn't tracking what he was saying. Not good, Jack thought. He clicked on the bedside light. They'd left the door open to let in some light so Mac could get what sleep he could. "Here." Jack helped Mac sit up. The kid's shirt and sheets dripped with sweat. Mac automatically took the pills and sips of water coughing as he forced them down. Mac swayed. Jack steadied him and called out over his shoulder. When Bozer and Riley came running, Jack suggested they get Mac's clothes, dressing and bed changed. Bozer and Jack helped Mac into a refreshing shower. Mac shook, his teeth chattered. He put a hand on the side of the shower breathing hard.

"Wha…"Mac rasped. He cleared his throat. "What's going on?" Jack and Bozer shared a worried look.

"You're hotter than a volcano on fire!" Bozer said. Mac frowned at him. He swayed and fell into a lean against the tiled wall. The others jerked forward ready to catch him. Mac shook his head and rubbed his forehead.

"That makes no sense," Mac said.

"You have a fever, bud." Jack clarified.

"Oh," Mac said ducking his hand into the water then scrubbing his face. He yawned. His two friends cooled him down until his eyes began to sink closed. They helped Mac into a pair of shorts. Jack went to slide a T shirt over Mac's head when he froze.

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" Bozer asked leaning forward. Jack pointed at a constellation of red spots on Mac's back.

"Crap." Jack left the shirt off and knelt in front of Mac. Mac's head sagged as the younger man leaned forward elbows on knees. Jack brushed the kid's hair back and gently shook Mac's shoulder. Mac looked up and blinked slowly. Jack waited until he was sure Mac focused on him.

"Have you ever had Chicken Pox?" Mac blinked a few times, the question not computing.

"Sure," Mac muttered. He yawned then winced. He paused frowning. "I must have." Mac shook his head. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Jack and Bozer helped him back to bed. "I'm sure I must have." Jack and Bozer shared a worried look. Riley had remade Mac's bed. Mac rolled onto his side and drifted off to sleep as soon as his body hit the clean sheets. Riley covered him with a sheet. They left the light on as they filed out the door.

The house was quiet when Mac woke up. He rubbed his face and winced. Mac absently scratched his chest. He stood up and yawned shuffling to the bathroom. Mac hissed at the stiff fire that lanced his thigh. He used the facility then bent over washing his hands. He hesitated to lift up his hand. Bright red raised spots freckled the back of his hands and forearms. Mac's eye brows jumped up. He looked down at his chest and saw his skin dotted with spots. Mac's eyes snapped up, and he looked in the mirror. His eyes widened. His face sported spots on every plane. Mac took a step back and yelped in horror. Surprise trumped rationality. Was it leprosy? Mac let out a louder cry and bent to scrub his arms under the water. Mac panted as he scrubbed with desperation.

"NO, NO, NO." Mac chanted scrubbing harder. The sores tore, and blood ran down his arms. Suddenly hands grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the sink. Mac whirled and wailed thrashing, trying to pull himself free, panting with panic.

"Whoa! Mac! Calm down, easy…" Jack said. It took a few minutes for his partner's voice to break through Mac's foggy thoughts.

"What is this? What…?" Mac's voice raised higher with fear. Jack shook his head and sighed. He held onto Mac's arms and led him back into the bedroom.

"Easy, Mac. You're ok, alright." Jack murmured. He backed Mac up until the younger man sat on the edge of the bed. Jack crouched down and winced at the scratches and torn blisters on Mac's arms. "I have to get some gauze, stay here." Mac blinked at him confused. "Stay!" Mac nodded. Jack left the room and gathered the medical supplies he'd need. He returned to find Mac scratching at his chest. Jack slapped at the blond's hands. Mac looked up at him with a scowl. Jack fought not to laugh. He pulled the bedside chair closer and sat across from Mac.

"Jack? What's going on?" Mac asked rubbing his left eye. Jack wiped his arm down. Mac hissed and tried to pull out of Jack's grip. Jack held on and tried to distract the kid.

"What do you remember?" Mac furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his head wincing. Jack paused in his bandaging to pull Mac's left arm down.

"We got the sofa, then came back here." Mac shook his head. "Everything is fuzzy after that." Jack sighed and taped the bandage moving on to the left forearm.

"You had a high fever last night." Jack paused and felt Mac's forehead with the back of his hand. Mac closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, Jack's hands felt cold. "Feels like you still have one, I'll have to check that." Mac blinked his eyes. "Anyway, you started popping out the vesicles in the middle of the night. We thought it was the flu, but it isn't." Mac held up his hand.

"Jack, my head is pounding, and I hurt everywhere. It's hard to think, give me the short version please?" Jack put a hand gently on Mac's shoulder and met the confused blue eyes.

"Chicken pox." Mac blinked at him then laughed.

"No really, c'mon."

"I'm serious, bud, you have chicken pox." Mac shook his head.

"Impossible, I had chicken pox."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked. Mac opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. The look on his face was one of misery. Mac sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

"I don't know. I must have, right?" Jack shrugged. He gently opened a large plastic container of calamine lotion. Jack slathered Mac's spots with the oily pinkish cream. Mac absently itched his face. Jack slapped his hands. Mac glared at him.

"So how long does it last?"

"About two weeks."

"Two weeks? No, uh-uh, not happening." Mac tried to stand up. Jack gently pushed him back down.

"Afraid it's not up to you, kid." Jack covered the spots on Mac's face then moved to the boy's back. Mac squirmed and fidgetted. Jack sighed in sympathy. The itching that went along with the sickness was a unique form of torture.

"You had this as a kid?" Mac asked. Jack nodded. "Why didn't I get it as a kid?" Jack smiled. Mac's brain wasn't working at capacity if he had to ask. Mac yawned and rubbed his eyes moving to itch his shoulder. Jack again slapped at his hand.

"Just lucky, I guess," Jack said. Mac itched his nose, dropping his hand before Jack could hit it.

"Lucky? This...this leprosy is terrible!" Jack patted Mac on the back and helped him lay down so he could change the dressing on Mac's thigh. Jack felt like he was fighting the hydra. Every time Jack turned away he heard the telltale noise of scratching. When he turned around, Mac would look at him innocently. Jack rolled his eyes.

"You keep itching them, and you'll end up with scars." Mac huffed and turned his head away frustrated.

"Where are the others?  
"They had to go in and dissect the couch." Jack taped the dressing together and stepped back. Mac swung his legs over and stood up.

"We should be…whoa." Mac put a hand out to the wall as the room flip-flopped around him. Everything faded to yellow fuzz for a minute. Mac blinked finding himself laying back down, Jack sitting on the edge of his bed worried.

"We shouldn't be getting out of that bed." Jack declared. Mac rubbed his forehead wincing at his pounding headache. With his other hand, he absently itched his stomach. Jack growled and pushed Mac's arm aside. "Stop that or I'll have to tie you down!" Mac glared at him.

"You wouldn't!" Jack smiled his 'try-me' grin. Mac grunted with impatience.

"So now what." Mac groused.

"Now I go get your meds, and you go back to sleep." Mac looked away letting out a deep breath. Jack shook his head and crossed the room. Mac dutifully took his meds, sipped water, and tilted his head so Jack could get his temperature.

"101.9. Not great, but better than it was." Jack said with a hint of relief in his voice. Mac closed his eyes and massaged his temples moaning softly. "A headache?" Mac nodded. "Those pills should take half an hour to kick in, try to relax." Jack gathered the wrappers from the bandages. He left the room. Mac smiled and started to scratch the hell out of his chest.

"And stop scratching!" Jack yelled. Mac paused and stuck his tongue out in the general direction of the door. "I saw that," Jack called from the kitchen.

"You did not," Mac muttered. He closed his eyes, turned onto his side and tried to get comfortable. It was hour later, Mac still hadn't been able to relax. He growled and punched his pillow throwing it across the room with a full string of swears. Mac heard a grinding sound coming from the kitchen he frowned. He laid back and tried to fight the urge to itch, it was maddening. Mac looked over and saw his hair brush on his bureau. Mac smiled and stretched over to get it. He began vigorously scratching his chest and leaned back smiling. Mac didn't care if he got scars, what were a few more? As long as he didn't itch his face, who cared?

"What are you doing?" Jack roared from the door. Mac froze looking guilty. He frowned. Why did he have to answer to Jack anyway? Jack shook his head as if he could hear Mac's thoughts. He strode over, grabbed the brush and threw it across the room. Mac sat up and tried to shove Jack out of his way. "You're worse than a five-year-old!" Jack grumbled pushing Mac back down. Mac paused to let dizziness pass. He glared at Jack defiantly. "Look, settle down. I'm making you a bath that will help alright?" Mac frowned.

"Making a bath?" Jack smiled.

"It's a time tested Dalton recipe. Oatmeal, coriander leaves and baking soda ground to a fine powder then poured into warm bath; you're going to love it. It helps the scarring too." Mac wrinkled his nose.

"Sounds disgusting." Jack chuckled.

"Trust me, ok? C'mon." He bent down offering his arm. Mac looked at him suspiciously.

"Where are we going?"

"You think I am going to leave you alone in here to itch yourself raw?" Jack said raising an eyebrow. Mac gritted his teeth and reached out letting Jack help him to his feet. Mac swayed. Jack held on tight and waited until Mac steadied. He ducked under the kid's arm and held Mac's waist walking him to the bathroom. Mac sat on the toilet watching as Jack poured in a right amount of flaky powder. Mac leaned his elbow against the sink and rested his head against the heel of his hand. He felt like crap. Mac took off his dressings moving slowly every part of his body hurting.

Jack waved a hand into the water until it turned milky. He glanced at Mac.

"That bad, huh?" Jack asked gently. Mac looked at him then looked away, refusing to admit to the misery he felt. Jack sighed and shook his head He turned off the water and turned to help Mac.

"I can get it," Mac growled. Jack held up his hands and retreated.

"Ok? My bad. I'll be over here." He turned his back to Mac and stood at the door. He knew how much Mac needed to keep some independence.

"You can go away." Jack laughed. Not that much independence.

"Maybe when you can stand up without passing out." Jack offered. He turned his head enough so he could watch Mac wobble into the bath. Mac slid into the warm water and hissed. After a long minute, he smiled and let out a long breath. Jack raised an eyebrow as Mac slid down until he was completely covered by water. Jack's heart jumped. He felt himself start to panic. The seconds turned to hours. Jack was about to drag Mac out of the bath when the younger man popped up blowing water out of his mouth. Mac pushed his hair back and grinned at Jack.

"Tastes like crap, but you're right it works great!" Jack nodded turning to hide his shakiness. This kid is gonna kill him one of these days, Jack told himself.

"I'm going to make some soup, keep soaking until I get back?" Mac hummed an answer as he leaned back relaxing into the water. Jack smiled and went to warm up Bozer's soup. Jack set up the couch and retrieved his collection of medical supplies. Jack frowned. When the others came back, he'd have to get more dressings. He looked at the calamine lotion. Riley had sworn by it, but it didn't seem to help much. Jack went to a tea pot Bozer had left out. Bozer had put a bunch of herbs in a metal ball. He'd explained to Jack how to make herbal tea with it. Jack watched as the water started to boil. He got out a glass and jammed it full of ice. No reason the tea couldn't be served on the rocks. With Mac's fever, Jack didn't want to give him anything too hot. He'd leave the soup just a bit warmer than lukewarm. It wasn't as good as hot soup, but Mac hadn't eaten in a long time. He probably won't care.

Mac let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. The water was almost cold and had started to coagulate. Mac grimaced as he pulled himself to his feet. Dizziness hit in midair, and he managed to catch himself with his arms. Mac's muscles shook. He tried moving his back end forward but couldn't do that without losing something his mama told him to always value.

"Dammit. JACK!" Mac closed his eyes and tried deep breathing. The door opened, and he looked up at Jack who stood staring at him.

"What in the hell?" Jack laughed. Mac rolled his eyes.

"Jack, please?" Mac's arms gave out, and he closed his eyes bracing for the faceplant into tile. Jack jumped forward and managed to stop Mac's forward movement. Jack tilted Mac upright and steadied him as the bathroom played wheel of fortune. Mac shuffled out, and his knees caved. Jack managed to aim him at the toilet. Mac grunted and closed his eyes breathing hard. He felt like he had gone for a five-mile run. He looked up as Jack wrapped a towel around his shoulders. Jack still smirked, but his eyes offset the older man's amusement with concern. Mac sighed and dried his hair.

"Mac, that's why you ask for help." Jack lectured. Mac leaned forward hiding his head in the towel groaning.

"You aren't going to let this go are you?" Mac grumbled.

"What do you think?" Jack chuckled. Mac shook his head. He moaned as his head reminded him not to do that. Jack knelt in front of Mac and put his hand on Mac's shoulder. Jack's eyes widened. Mac was shaking as if he'd been in a freezer for the last hour. "Hey?" Jack pushed Mac's bangs back. Mac looked at Jack dizzy and exhausted. "Let's get you warmed up and fed, huh?" Mac sighed and nodded. Jack steadied him as he dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. Jack held onto Mac's hand with his arm over the Delta's shoulder. Mac's legs felt like rubber bands. His head drooped and felt too heavy for his sore muscles to support.

"I hate chicken pox," Mac mumbled.

"Yeah, I hear you, bud. It's worse if you get it as an adult.

"Great." Mac sighed in bliss as he sat down and leaned back on the couch. He yawned, and his eyes sank closed.

"Not yet, buddy. Try eating something." Mac opened his eyes and nodded. He managed a quarter of the soup and half of the iced tea. Mac still shivered. Jack frowned. Mac layed down and crossed his arms over his chest trying to get warm. Jack covered him up with a thin blanket.

"I'm gonna get the thermometer." Mac hummed, his eyes closed. Mac was asleep by the time Jack returned. The younger man didn't move when Jack took his temperature. 102.5. Not good. Jack sighed and put his hand against Mac's forehead. He could feel the heat coming from the kid in waves, but the skin was dry and a little flaky from the oatmeal bath. Jack yawned. He cleaned up the dishes. He'd left Mac's stitches unbandaged but didn't think it would hurt anything. The stitches looked pretty good, and the wound was dry. The bath had relieved the itching for now, and Mac had all his meds on board. Jack sighed and tucked himself in on the other couch. He glanced at his watch. His mom always did the baths two or three times a day. Hopefully, the kid would sleep through until evening. Jack closed his eyes and slowly began to snore.

Movement jerked Mac out of sleep. A shadow loomed over him; Mac ducked back sucking in fast, anxious breaths.

"Hey, Mac. Sorry didn't mean to wake you up." Bozer whispered leaning closer to help Mac focus on his face. Mac relaxed taking a deep breath. He pulled his covered tighter around him and shivered. Bozer frowned.

"Are you cold?" Mac nodded, his teeth chattering. Mac noticed Jack was gone. He frowned and looked out the window. Night had fallen. Mac's heart pounded with fear. Mac squawked and shrunk back when Bozer tried to take his temp. "Whoa, sorry, my bad. Shoulda warned you." Mac winced as he swallowed.

"No, that's ok, Bozer. I'm just feeling edgy." Mac felt like he was going to shake apart with chills.

"Damn! 103.7, I'll get your meds, ok?" Mac nodded.

"Where's Jack?" Mac stuttered around his trembling lips.

"He went shopping with Riley." Mac closed his eyes and pulled the covers up higher, but he felt restless. He found himself itching and moaned.

"Mac?" Bozer asked as he brought over a hot cup of herbal tea. Mac sat up bundled in his blankets and curled around the warmth of the cup. Bozer had left an inch empty from the top so Mac's shaking wouldn't spill the fluid. Mac looked up at him and took a sip.

"I just feel nervous, jumpy." Bozer leaned back frowning. Mac could read his friend's face and rolled his eyes. "Only since I woke up. How long did I sleep?"

"Well Jack said about six hours, and that was two hours ago." Mac nodded and sucked down more tea.

"This is good, tastes like licorice."

"That's the anise," Bozer said proudly. "Mama gave me most of the recipe, but I added in a few things to make it more palpable. Mac's shaking made the cup slip from his hands. There had only been a little left, but it splashed across the light tan area rug. Mac looked up at Bozer.

"Boze, I'm sorry…" Oddly tears pricked Mac's eyes. Bozer noticed this and frowned. He sat beside Mac and put a comforting arm around Mac's shoulders.

"It's ok, roomie. It's not your fault. Besides, could you spill any more than Jack has?" Mac smiled and laid back closing his eyes. He was so damn tired. "Hey, buddy. Take these; it'll help with your fever." Bozer held out a palm full of pills and a small glass of water. Mac fought to get them down. Mac closed his eyes. It felt like he'd just swallowed steel wool. "Hey, Mac. Your throat hurts?" Mac nodded and curled up into a ball pulling the blanket over his head. Bozer made sure Mac's feet were covered and cleaned the tea off the rug. He stepped out on the deck and pulled out his phone. Bozer left the door open so he could hear Mac and kept one eye on his friend.

"What wrong?" Jack said when he answered.

"Jack, I think you need to bring Doc Carl back with you."

"What? What happened?" Bozer winced. Jack's worry seemed to crawl out of the phone and slap him.

"I don't know if it's anything to worry about, but he's shaking more, and is anxious as hell. I took his temp it was 103.7. I gave him his meds, but he could barely get them down."

"His throat?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Shit."

"Yeah, he's dozing off now on the couch. I got a bit of tea in him."

"Good job, Boze. Alright, we'll be there in 30." Bozer hung up and crept inside sliding the door shut as quietly as he could although if Mac's snoring was any indication, Bozer probably could have run a chainsaw, and the blond wouldn't have rolled over. Bozer stretched out on the other couch and turned on the TV. He found a classic horror movie marathon and grinned. Bozer got so into Night of the Living Dead he didn't hear the GTO pull up outside. When the front door opened, Bozer yelped and jumped six inches in the air. Jack paused amused.

"Everything ok there, Boze?"

"Fine except you giving me a heart attack!" Bozer's voice was a high pitched squeak. Jack chortled as he put a handful of bags in the kitchen. He crossed over to Mac and sat on the coffee table facing him.

"Hey, Mac?" He asked softly. The form under the puff of blanket mumbled something incoherent but didn't move. Jack frowned and pulled the blanket back. Mac's eyes opened wide and his sucked in air pushing into the back of the sofa.

"Hey, hey, easy you're ok." Mac blinked and looked at him and crossed his arms shaking. Jack ran his hand along Mac's arm and frowned. It was cold and clammy with goose flesh and red spots. Jack pulled the blankets around Mac again. Mac stared at Jack a long minute his brow furrowed with puzzlement.

"Are you back with us, bud?" Jack asked. Mac nodded but continued to stare at Jack. Jack looked behind him thinking maybe Bozer was goofing around behind him, but Bozer was still sitting on the other couch. Jack looked over to him.

"I got nothing." Bozer said shrugging, "Where's the doc?"

"Riley should be bringing him up soon." Mac pushed to his elbows and reached out a hand. He waved his fingers a few inches from Jack's face then sat back. "Uh, Mac. Is everything ok?"

"Weird," Mac whispered. Jack winced at the kid's hoarseness.

"What is?" Jack asked. Mac pushed himself up and leaned closer to Jack's face then pulled back then leaned in again. Mac plopped back as his shaking arms wouldn't hold him up.

"You don't feel that?" Mac asked. Jack glanced over at Bozer who shrugged worry etched on his face. Mac relaxed back and pulled the blanket up but kept staring at Jack. Jack glanced up happy to see Riley's car pull in the drive. "Alrighty then, I'll go get the doc, ok?" Mac nodded not moving his eyes from Jack. Jack opened the door. Doc Carl went to greet him; Jack pulled him aside not waiting for niceties. Riley walked past them and looked at Bozer curious. Bozer grinned.

"The crazy train made a pit stop." Riley frowned and looked over at Mac. Mac was staring at something over Riley's head. Riley brushed her hair and looked up thinking it was a bug. "Oh, there isn't anything there, Mac's sorta seeing things around people." Bozer offered. Riley's eyes widened. She sat on the coffee table. Mac kept staring at her head as if he were looking at something flying around it.

"Mac?" She asked touching his arm. He looked at her and giggled. Riley raised her eye brows.

"They are cool. I've never seen anything like them." Mac said a child-like wonder on his face. He reached up and swatted the empty air.

"Uh, neither have I evidently," Riley said looking up. Doc Carl watched Mac with a serious expression. The tall curly haired man shook his head. Riley got up and moved aside so the doctor could take her place. Mac's face lost its wonder. His eyes dropped, and he ducked away. His eyes darted up then away. Mac pulled the blanket higher almost covering him. Doc Carl leaned forward. Mac hissed and shied back.

"I don't like you," Mac growled. Doc Carl smiled.

"I'm not surprised. What do you see Mac?" Mac ducked and looked at the ceiling. He glared at the doctor.

"You brought them in with you, didn't you." Mac's tone took on a blade of menace. Jack crossed the room and sat next to Mac. Mac studied Jack for a long time then Doc Carl. His gaze bounced from one to the other. Mac let out a deep breath and sat back deflated. He closed his eyes and covered them with his arm. Jack shot the doctor a worried look.

"Mac? Is it ok if I take a listen?" Mac raised one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. Doc Carl pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket and leaned forward listening. He sat back and nodded. "Can I look in your mouth?" Mac moved his arm and glared at the doctor.

"Why?"

"So I can see if there are any sores in there." Mac frowned and they could see him move his tongue around his mouth. His eyes closed and he winced. He looked up at Doc Carl.

"You stuck them in there already." Jack blinked.

"Ok, that's not good." Doc Carl offered a calming smile. He half turned slowly.

"Could you grab the bag I brought with me?" He asked softly.

"I got it," Riley said softly. Mac's eyes followed her across the room, and he began to laugh. He looked over at Jack.

"Can you believe that?"

"Not really." Jack offered. Mac laughed again then frowned. He squirmed and began itching. He sat up and tried to push Jack out of his way. Jack caught his waist and sat him back down. Mac huffed and glared at Jack.

"Get out of my way; I can't stay here." Jack raised his eye brows at the menace in Mac's voice.

"No, I think it's better if you stay here," Jack said working to keep his tone calm. Mac growled and jumped to his feet. Jack met him. Mac swung. Jack easily dodged and caught Mac around the chest before the kid spiraled down to the floor.

"Sit down, already," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"Let me out! I have to get out of here! Jack! JACK, help! HELP!" Jack shot Doc Carl a desperate look. The doctor leaned over, snagged Mac's waistband and gave him a fast shot. Mac howled in anger and turned swinging. Doc Carl sprawled across the table as he ducked back.

"Dammit," Jack growled grabbing Mac with both hands, lifting him up and laying him face down on the couch. Jack leaned over on the younger man careful not to put on too much weight or block his airway. "Any other bright ideas?"

"We need to get his temp down." The doctor said sitting back up. He turned to Bozer. "How much ice do you have?" Bozer swallowed.

"Ice?"

Mac arched his back and screamed. Everything blurred around him. He was cold and wet. Waterboarding! Mac yelled for Jack, but his voice was little more than a soft rasp.

"Easy, Mac. You're ok; we have to bring down your temp." He heard the words, he recognized the voice and face, but it was all wrong somehow. Mac tried to kick, to punch, to pull free.

"No, don't do this! Please, not again." Mac pleaded. He tried to climb out of the water. Hands held him. "PLEASE!" He wailed, tears running down his face. "Not again!" Mac began to sob. Mac heard voices around him; then hands lifted him out of the water. He felt himself wrapped in a towel or blanket then someone's arms. Mac curled in closer. This warmth he knew, this was safety.

"Jack?" He sniffed weakly.

"Yeah, kiddo, I'm here it's ok. You're gonna be ok." Mac closed his eyes, his breath hitching with sobs that were tapering off.

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't buddy." Mac felt hands run through his hair. Jack gently began to rock him.

"Where are we?" Mac whispered.

"We're back home; you're safe. It's ok." Mac took in shaking breaths.

"Everything hurts. Did they get us again?" Mac's voice was barely a whisper.

"No, kiddo, you're just really sick. We had to get your fever down." Mac took another shaky breath. Jack rubbed his back.

"I hurt."

"I know, kiddo. It's gonna be ok, I promise."

"Why is everything wrong?" Jack paused.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything looks wrong, tastes bad, my skin is on backward and ITCHES!" Tears began to run down Mac's cheeks. Jack started rocking him again.

"It's ok, Mac. You're just really sick. It'll feel better when your meds kick in, ok?" Mac nodded and found himself yawning. Jack glanced up at the others. Bozer and Riley looked like they were going to cry. Doc Carl squatted beside the pair and held out the thermometer. Jack nodded.

"Hey, bud?"

"Hmmm?"

"We need to get your temp again, ok?"

" 'K." Jack nodded at the doc and tightened his grip around Mac. Mac jumped and sucked in air as the doctor stuck the thermometer in the kid's ear. Jack could feel tension vibrate though the younger man.

"It's ok, buddy, just got your temp. You're ok." Doc Carl sat back and smiled.

"101.3. Not perfect but a whole lot better." It felt like a collectively held breath was let out.

"Ok, let's get him tucked into bed, my knees are killing me," Jack grunted. He gently shook Mac, but the blond was sound asleep. The three men managed to wrangle Mac into bed. The doctor bandaged his leg and examined his spots. He smiled in relief.

"They are drying. The calamine lotion should work pretty well now."

"How much longer?" Jack asked rubbing his face with his hands as Bozer, and the doc smeared the pink lotion on Mac's sores.

"If his fever stays down, he'll probably sleep through tomorrow then start to feel better. Just keep trying to get fluids down him." The three men covered Mac, turned on the dim light by the bed then left the room. Jack half listened to the instructions Doc Carl was rattling to Bozer. Jack closed his eyes again seeing the panic in Mac's eyes. He swallowed around a lump. He remembered when it had been evil terrorists holding Mac under the water long after the kid couldn't breathe. Jack jumped when Bozer put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Jack, you ok?" Jack rubbed his face and nodded.

"Just bad memories." Bozer gave Jack a speculative look. Jack put a hand on Bozer's shoulder and guided the younger man back to the living room. "Trust me, Boze. You are better off not knowing."

Time seemed to pass in a haze. Mac slept occasionally rolling over and mumbling, not quite awake, not quite asleep. He took the pills they gave him, he drank the fluids they offered and even allowed them to spray Cepacol in his throat. Mostly he slept. His teammate stayed with him taking turns. Matty even came and sat with Mac. Mac's fever hovered between 101 and 102 for the next day and a half then broke in a flood of sweat. Mac was dimly aware of familiar hands helping him get washed up and into a clean bed. He mumbled at them, but no one knew what he meant to say. Jack guessed it was either a critique or thanks or some combination of both.

On the third day, Mac groaned and opened his eyes. He laid on his stomach covered from head to toe by his comforter his right arm and leg hanging out, dangling to the floor. Mac reached up and grabbed the blanket turning his head and blinking everything into focus. Mac yawned and winced as muscles that had not moved in awhile complained.

"Well, look who's awake." Mac followed the voice to Jack's face. Jack sat in the bedside chair and slid his phone back into his pocket. Mac murmured something that was muffled by his pillow. "What?" Mac rolled onto his side facing Jack. He lifted his arms and ran one hand along the other. The red dots were no longer pustules, but healing scabs. Mac dropped his arms tired.

"I asked if this leprosy plague is over." Jack laughed.

"Pretty much. Doc Carl said to give it a couple of days then you should be back on your feet." Mac rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"That's good, it sucked."

"Yes, it did." Mac focused on Jack picking up the note of tension. Jack looked down avoiding his partner's eyes. Mac sat up, his arms trembling. Jack moved to help. Mac pushed his hands away.

"Jack, what happened."

"Nothing, you were just really sick and had a high fever…" Mac stopped him with a hand on Jack's knee.

"Tell me." Jack sighed and itched his forehead.

"What do you remember?" Mac frowned and shrugged.

"I don't know it's all a blur; I remember a cold bath and…" Mac's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Are you ok, Jack?" Jack laughed and met Mac's worried gaze.

"Am I ok? Seriously?"

"Seriously." Jack rubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair.

"Yeah, it threw me, opened some old wounds, but it's better now that you're going to be ok." Mac lost his smile in a yawn, Jack stood up and leaned over Mac gently pushing him back into bed. Mac looked up at his friend. He caught Jack's arm and waited until Jack met his eyes.

"Thank you," Mac said. Jack smiled knowing it was for more than helping Mac when he was sick. Jack nodded and pulled the covers over Mac. Mac gave a contented sigh.

"Oh hey?" Jack turned. Mac looked up. "Do you remember what the hell you were seeing? You stared at all of us weird like." Mac rubbed his eyes.

"I kinda remember you being on fire-kind of like a rainbow fire? Then there were these butterflies that puffed with glitter...I don't know it's all kinda messed up." Jack chuckled.

"I bet. Get some rest."

"When are we suppose to go back to work?" Mac asked around a yawn.

"Well, we got a few days off thanks to you." Mac raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah, evidently Matty never had chicken pox as a kid either."


End file.
